We Ain't Got Nobody
by Raikune
Summary: Updated finally! Is Faye Valentine really a vindictive shrew who steals cheesecakes? Find out! A slices-of-life fic. When is life on the Bebop ever normal? As much as the cowboys dislike one other, all they have is each other. PG-13 for some language.
1. Bebop Blues & Highs

A/N: I'm new at writing Cowboy Bebop fics, so if this isn't to your taste, well, tough. Reviews are appreciated, constructive criticism is allowed, and flames will be laughed at and used to feed my pet Balrog. Bingo, bango, bam.  
  
Disclaimer: I own...stuff. Not Cowboy Bebop. *goes off to sulk about not owning Spike or Jet*  
  
~~  
  
Faye Valentine reclined on her bed, poring over her magazine. Then she sulkily flung it away and groaned. God, she was so bored. The Redtail was damaged (surprise) and Jet hadn't finished doing the repairs on it. Which meant: No shopping. No gambling. No FREEDOM. She was stuck on trawler with a sarcastic couch-potato/cowboy, a disturbed child, an ex-cop who tended his bonsai plants like they were his children and a mutt for roommates.  
  
She chewed on her lip. Not even roommates, really...Christ, she didn't even know these people. Some life, Valentine.  
  
Faye picked herself off the bed with one action in mind: namely, take a shower. She was a woman, with hygiene standards, and she couldn't afford to stink and live like savages like the males on this ship. Spike and Jet hadn't seemed particularly bothered when the shower broke (again) and it had taken lots of nagging on her part just to make Jet fix the damn thing.  
  
Men, she thought with disgust.  
  
Walking down the corridor, she heard something: the sound of water running. Someone was already in the shower. And to judge from the water puddling at the door, for much too long.  
  
Her eyes narrowed. There was only one person it could be...  
  
~~  
  
Spike closed his eyes, tilting his head back into the hot spray. Good thing Jet fixed the shower, or they'd all have to bear Faye's endless complaints for another three days. You'd think the woman had never smelled B.O. before. He smirked. Well, at least he had beaten her to it this time, and he planned to milk it up by staying in as long as he could and hopefully use up all the hot water. That would teach her to-  
  
"AAAAAAAAGH!" Spike screamed as the water suddenly went from hot to ice- cold. He staggered out, threw a towel around his waist, and turned off the shower. Yanking open the door open he found himself face-to-face with a smug Faye.  
  
"Shit! What's wrong with you? I was in the shower, Faye," Spike snapped, making to sure to ooze as much sarcasm as possible.  
  
"Well, you were taking too long. So I decided to flush the other toilet and give you a wake-up call, you know?" Faye answered sweetly. "My hair happens to need more maintenance then yours..." She eyed his head. "Besides, your green clown-wig's pretty much a lost cause."  
  
She sailed past him, holding up a bottle of shampoo. "My turn! And don't you think of touching the toilet, I told Ed to bite anyone who tries to go near it besides me. So if you need to piss, tough." This was a lie, but Faye beamed at Spike, who was glowering.  
  
"Oh, and your towel's slipping."  
  
Spike snatched at his towel, giving her a scathing glare, which Faye prettily ignored. As always.  
  
~~  
  
Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the IV hummed as she surfed cyberspace. The skinny teenager swayed back and forth, allowing the colors and shapes to dance in her vision. "Reds, yell-ows, blu-es, colors so preetty..." she sang, imagining herself in different shades. What if she was blue? That was nice color. Blue hair! She giggled. Blue hair, green eyes, purple skin, orange tongue...she'd be...  
  
"RAINBOW ED!!" Ed screeched at no one, hugging herself. She leapt off the table where she was sitting and danced around, arms and legs akimbo. Then she stopped.  
  
What if Edward could be Rainbow Ed? Last time the Bebop crew went to Mars, Jet had bought her a little paint set, he said, 'in order to expand her creative imagination'. Spike had replied that Ed's imagination didn't need any expanding and if anything it should be caged as much as possible. Faye had suggested simply caging Ed herself. "She's like a little monkey anyway," was her retort.  
  
Ed hadn't used it yet. Whooping, she streaked to her room and dug her little paint kit out from the sheets. Acrylic. Non-toxic. With Added Glitter For More Fun!  
  
Her grin stretched even wider as she squeezed the first bright little worm of paint onto her palm...  
  
~~  
  
A/N: Hmm. I wonder where this is going? *shrugs* Oh well who knows. R&R please! 


	2. Rainbow Ed

People actually like this fic. Wow. Here's the next chapter then ^_^  
  
~~  
  
Spike took a sulky drag off his cigarette, running a hand through his still- damp hair. He couldn't believe that shrew woman had kicked out of the shower. Who did she think she was anyway? She didn't own this ship, she didn't pay for rent or food, or do any real work –well, ok, he didn't either, but at least he brought bounties in.  
  
Hands in his pockets, Spike slouched towards the lounge. He was hungry. Maybe Jet had some grub to dish out...  
  
"'TIS RAAAAIN-BOW ED, THE HUMAN WONDER GIRL AND PRINCESS OF GLITTERY-NESS!"  
  
"Jesus!" Spike swerved to the side as Ed blew past him in a whirlwind of color and glitter. She stopped, did a neat pirouette, and somersaulted over to rest at his feet. Spike felt his jaw make a beeline for the floor. He snatched at his cigarette.  
  
Edward was almost unrecognizable. She had plastered herself in paint: reds, purples, greens, yellows, blues and every color in between. War-paint stripes criss-crossed across her face. Her skin glittered.  
  
Spike swallowed. Hard.  
  
"Uh...how ya doin', Edward?" he said carefully, edging away from her. In this state she was more then capable of giving a big, paint-smeared hug. And he'd just had a shower.  
  
She displayed him umber-colored palms. This was unfortunate. Because when you smear every single color together, the result is a brownish tan which makes people think you've been playing with your own shit. Spike knew this and he winced.  
  
He had to take action before Jet saw her. Or-  
  
"Spike?"  
  
He turned. It was Faye. Perfect.  
  
"Spike, you know I really hate having to say this to you, but I need to borrow some woolongs...oh, SHIT." Faye had noticed Ed. She arched an eyebrow at her fellow bounty hunter.  
  
"So, what did you do?"  
  
Spike goggled at her. "Huh? Hey, you think this messed up kid is MY fault?"  
  
"Well, who else could it be?" Faye replied in a 'duh' tone of voice.  
  
He pointed his ciggy at her. Troublesome wench, she'd already stolen his shower and now she was blaming him for painting up Ed. "I had nothing to do with this. Ed did it to herself!"  
  
Both looked down. Edward was crooning about purples and greens living happily ever after.  
  
"You thinking what I'm thinking?"  
  
"Leaving Ed and letting Jet deal with her when he finds out?"  
  
"I meant the other option."  
  
"Oh." Spike considered. "I don't want to." He yawned.  
  
"I don't care if you don't want to," Faye snapped, "I don't want to either but we shouldn't have Ed running around the ship looking like a victim from a paintball explosion, do we? She'll get paint everywhere. So do it!"  
  
"Fine, fine." Spike bent down with a fake smile on his face.  
  
"Hey Ed? How about we take you to have a bath, huh? What do you say to that?" He tried to grin.  
  
Ed considered for five seconds.  
  
"Nooo!" She ran off, leaving blue footprints. Spike and Faye gave identical groans and gave chase.  
  
~~  
  
20 minutes later...  
  
Jet frowned as he sliced his bell peppers. Normally just before dinner time, he'd be interrupted at least six times by Faye, Spike, and Ed, all along the lines of 'Is dinner ready yet? I'm staarving!' Now the Bebop was uncharacteristically silent. He tilted his head: no random shrieking from Ed, no sounds of fighting between Spike and Faye, no barking from Ein. He shrugged and continued slicing peppers. Whatever silence there was to be had, he welcomed it.  
  
He switched the pepper from his right hand, dully noticing that all sense of touch stopped the moment he put it into his cybernetic left. After all these years, he still expected to feel the smooth skin against his palm. Jet had never gotten used to the tiny pang of loss it brought.  
  
Unaware that he was scowling, the ex-cop finished and flung the pepper irritably into the pan. He was getting a headache. Good thing everything was quiet, or-  
  
"JEEEEEEET! ED WON'T GET BACK IN THE BATH AND SHE'S LEAVING WATER ALL OVER THE FLOOOOR!!"  
  
Yells followed, accompanied by laughter and the slap of bare feet on the floor, and coming closer. Ed flew into the kitchen in her soaked clothes, completely covered in paint, skidded, and plowed into Jet's legs, her fiery hair in wet clumps. The bounty hunter yelped in surprise. Losing his balance, he fell, flinging the peppers in his hands into the air.  
  
"Rainbow Edward does noooot need a bath! Faye-Faye and Spike-Spike are chasing Ed –ooh, food!" The genius hacker scrabbled at the peppers rolling on the floor.  
  
Jet groaned in reply: his head had connected with the hardest part of the floor, so it seemed. He was a fool: everything had been just too quiet for his liking...  
  
He succeeded into getting onto one elbow when Spike ran in, and in pursuit of Ed slipped on a pepper and landed on his friend's chest.  
  
"Owwwwwww!" Spike moaned, "Jesus, it feels like I landed on –"He squinted. "- a metal arm? Huh? Oh...heh, sorry Jet."  
  
Faye chose that moment to appear.  
  
"Jeeet! Ed needs- oh, wow. Am I interrupting something? You know, you guys should know better then to do things like that in front of a child. Especially Ed."  
  
Spike and Jet glared at her but she took no notice. "And, since you're here, Jet, WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO FIX MY SHIP? I have things to do, like go shopping and go to casinos! And while you're at it, where's dinner?" Faye put her hands on her hips and stuck out her lip impatiently. "Well?"  
  
Jet closed his eyes. "Maybe you should learn to fix your own ship and make your own meals instead of me doing everything for you, every single day," he growled, giving her a glare.  
  
"Ooh, touchy. It's just a little repair job, and you've got loads of free time." She talked over Jet's protests. "- I'm a busy woman, you know..."  
  
"Yeah," came Spike's drawl from the floor, "you're so busy you have no time to paint your nails...ow!" He rolled away as Faye kicked him.  
  
As the Bebop cowboys were busy arguing with each other, no one noticed Ed slink stealthily out of the kitchen, chewing on a pepper. Clambering on all fours, she saw Ein in the corridor. The data-dog knew what was coming and tried to scrabble away as fast as his little short legs could carry him, but Ed scooped him up and dashed back to her room, giggling.  
  
What good was Rainbow Ed without a rainbow-colored canine sidekick?  
  
~~  
  
"So let me get this straight," Jet grumbled, rubbing his head while throwing away the bell peppers that had been on the floor, "Edward smeared paint all over herself and is running around my ship, you two captured her and tried to dump her in the bath, but she escaped."  
  
"Well...yeah." Spike took a drag. Jet kept staring at him.  
  
"The kid's like a goddamn eel," Spike whined in his defence (He'd leave Faye to take care of herself). "A freakishly strong slippery eel. With paint and glitter all over it."  
  
"With no sense of color tone," Faye added in a pained voice.  
  
Jet snorted. "Edward," he began, "Why did y –" He looked around. No Ed.  
  
"Where is she?"  
  
"Follow the footprints," Spike said in a resigned monotone. He stabbed at the floor with his cig. Jet's eyes slowly followed the tracks out of the kitchen, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Guess who would be cleaning this up?  
  
A frenzied yelping erupted from somewhere. All locked eyes.  
  
"I told you we shoulda put her in a zoo," Faye grumbled.  
  
~~  
  
A/N: Hehe. I have no idea what I'm doing. So R&R! Please. 


	3. Where's My Cheesecake?

A/N: I take waaay too long to update. Apologies. ^.^ Some swearing in this chapter. Just to warn you.  
  
~~  
  
Spike stared hard. He stared very, very hard at the inside of the fridge. On a neat white saucer was a small, hastily scribbled hand-written note that read 'This is my piece of cheesecake. It's very special to me. If you eat it, you're dead. --Spike'.  
  
He slowly leaned forward until his nose was almost resting on the fridge shelf and carefully, with an outstretched finger, lifted up the saucer to see if his last, saved quarter of cheesecake was under it. Nothing. He let the saucer fall with a dull clunk sound. His special, wonderful, tasty, last saved bit of cheesecake was not there.  
  
He looked at the poor, desolate, saucer, so lonely without his cheesecake, bare except for a few crumbs, and wondered if he was going to cry or go insane or scream or all three.  
  
Spike straightened and his eyes narrowed. He curled his hands into fists. In a minute, there was going to be some ass-kicking.  
  
The cowboy was usually indifferent to all forms of matter that originally came from the planet Earth. This had changed, recently, to insane children (Ed), animals, (Ein), and cheesecake. The first two he had a quiet dislike to, and the third he loved. He couldn't remember anything else, besides egg- rolls, that tasted so good. When remembering his Syndicate days, his one fond memory was one of slouching off down the Martian streets to a homely little bakery where they made good ol' New York-style cheesecake, just like back in the good ol' days. A sweet, pleasant memory that drove away the bitter after-taste of betrayal and guilt that soured his mouth whenever he usually recalled his past.  
  
He'd told Jet this when they were having one of their many conversations about food, and hell if Jet...good, trustworthy, honourable, non-cheesecake snatcher that he was, had went out and bought him his own little cheeescake! New York-style! Of course, nothing in life is free and Spike had offered to pay him, but Jet had refused, saying with a grin, that for all the trouble he went through just to find someone who could make the damn thing, he'd be happy to see Spike eat it without complaining of stomach cramps. Spike reflected for a split-second on what a pal Jet was before turning his mind back to thoughts of his delicious cheesecake.  
  
Good food, in his opinion, was usually meant to be wolfed up, but he'd gone against his instincts for once and took time to savour his treasure. A small piece a week, for a month. He'd had to beat Faye and Ed away from it every now and then, and then they had finally backed off, surprised at the vehemence in his eyes over the dominion of small dessert. Jet didn't touch it, of course.  
  
Spike had been really, really been looking forward to have his Slice of the Week, for relaxation purposes after spending a fruitless hour searching for 'Rainbow Ed', whose purple footprints had suddenly vanished. It wasn't his job to chase after psychotic little girls.  
  
Was a slice of cheesecake really too much to ask?  
  
"IS IT?!" He screeched suddenly, giving the fridge a resounding kick that almost dented it. Spike yanked open the door again and whipped the saucer out. He sniffed it longingly, then stiffened.  
  
There was nail polish. Just a small smudge of it on the underside of the rim. Left by someone who wanted to eat in a hurry and couldn't wait for her nail polish to dry  
  
The plate in his grip quivered.  
  
~~  
  
Faye slouched on the couch, watching the bounty hunter show with a lazy eye. Not that there were any good bounties. There never were. She yawned, and stretched out, cat-like. Maybe she'd go and nag Jet about fixing the Redtail again...  
  
A shadow abruptly blotted out her view of the ceiling and Faye squeaked. When she blinked, she saw a green cotton-ball of hair and relaxed. She smiled.  
  
"What do you want?" she asked in a sultry tone, stretching out her legs. She failed to notice, or ignored, the saucer Spike held in his hand.  
  
"You..." he whispered.  
  
"Yeah, me. I don't look like Jet, do I? Or Ein?"  
  
Spike's breath came out in a rush. "You ate my cheesecake."  
  
"Your what?"  
  
A bit of paper was shoved into her face. "Cut it out," she snapped, no longer amused. She tried to bat it away.  
  
"Read it!"  
  
"Yeah, yeah..." Faye delicately plucked it from her crewmate's fingers and gave it a languid once-over. "Cheesecake...cheesecake, cheesecake...where have I tasted that before?" She tapped her chin. Then belched. "Oh yeah."  
  
Spike looked at her with a burning calm. "That was MY cheesecake," he said in terrible quiet voice. "It was a piece of my boyhood. MINE."  
  
Faye squealed as he pinned her arms to her sides.  
  
"AND YOU ATE IT!! FAYE!!"  
  
"I was hungry!" she shouted back in her defense, kicking at him. "We've been floating around in the middle of space for a week! No bounties! No food! I was starving, dammit!!"  
  
"We're all starving!" Spike shouted, bringing his face so their noses were almost touching, "BUT THAT DOESN'T GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO FILCH MY CHEESECAKE YOU FREE-LOADER!"  
  
Faye gasped and slapped his face. "I am NOT a freeloader you ungrateful ass! And besides, it's everyone for herself on this ship, Spike Spiegel! Take it or leave it!"  
  
Spike growled as he rubbed his cheek. "First off, you do not belong on this ship, you are a moocher who has overspent her rent time. You are a messed- up woman looking for trouble. You ate my last slice of cheesecake...probably the last slice in this fucking galaxy...you ate it, Faye, and I hate you!"  
  
Ok, so that last shot sounded childish but Spike didn't care. Faye had ruined his life to the nth degree. She was on her feet now, purple hair sticking out and her face bright red. Her hands were on her hips.  
  
"Oh get a LIFE, Spike! It was a measly bit of cake –"  
  
"NEW YORK-STYLE CHEESECAKE!"  
  
"Who gives a fuck!" she shouted, "I was hungry and I ate it! Stop behaving like such a child!!"  
  
"Like you're the figure of motherly goodness?!" he screeched. "You have no respect for anyone on this ship but yourself! I've never seen anyone so selfish!"  
  
"I learnt it all from you!"  
  
They stared at each other, then whirled away and stomped back to their respective rooms.  
  
"BITCH!" Spike shouted after her.  
  
"ASS!"  
  
"SHREW!"  
  
"BABY!"  
  
"CHEESECAKE STEALER!"  
  
"IDIOT!"  
  
"TRAMP!"  
  
SLAM!  
  
Ed cocked her head at Ein. "Faye-Faye and Spike-Spike are fighting again," she said sadly, tucking in her feet from where she was hiding in the air ventilation system. Ein yipped. The data-dog was covered in paint and it was matting his fur. He began to whine but Ed shushed him.  
  
"Shhh, Ein! Someone's coming!" Peering through the slats, she could make out Jet's broad-shouldered figure striding down the corridor. Her dancing eyes narrowed.  
  
"Ein," she whispered, "Someone is infiltrating the Rainbow Warrior's territory! An enemy! We can't let him pass, can we?" Ein whimpered. He couldn't care less. He was covered in paint!  
  
"Get ready for defensive action!" Rainbow Ed announced to her troops, one miserable data-dog. "Ready, Lt. Ein?" She crouched.  
  
"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!"  
  
"What?!" Jet yelled, spinning around before he was attacked from above. Rainbow Ed descended on him and began pounding at his chest with her fists, growling savagely.  
  
"DEATH TO ALL WHO DARE TRESSPASS AGAINST THE RAINBOW WARRIORS! GRRRRRR!!"  
  
Jet just rolled his eyes and heaved a huge sigh, gingerly picking Ed off his shoulder with his cybernetic arm in case she tried to bite him. He inwardly groaned as he saw how many layer of paint she was covered in.  
  
"Edward -"  
  
"Rainbow Edward!"  
  
"Edward," he repeated more sternly, and she wilted. "I've been searching the ship everywhere for you. What the hell do you think you're doing?"  
  
"Rainbow Edward has decorated herself with the colours of her tribe and is a proud rainbow Warrior," the hacker announced, "Rainbow Edward is teaching Lt. Ein the Rainbow Dog how to attack enemy forces."  
  
Jet looked down at her. "I don't think so. Rainbow Edward needs to stop living in Edward World and become Edward again by taking a bath." He scooped her up easily before she could dart away. "Where's Ein?"  
  
A mournful yipping sounded above him. Jet reached up and took the trembling dog in his other hand. Shaking his head, he headed towards the bathroom, Ed giving half-hearted struggles against his grip.  
  
"Unhand the Rainbow Warriors! Courage, Lt. Ein, we shall overcome!"  
  
"First Spike and Faye, and now you two. What do you have to say for yourself?"  
  
"Give me liberty or give me death, Evil King!"  
  
Jet rolled his eyes again. "Do you know why Spike and Faye are so mad at each other?"  
  
"Cheesecake!" Ed shouted.  
  
"Oh great, don't tell me Faye- "  
  
"Faye-person ate Lunkhead's squishy cake of cheese. Lunkhead-Spike-Person started shouting and Faye slapped him and Spike-Spike got all upset. Over a cake of cheese."  
  
"I bet."  
  
"Rainbow Edward wishes the Evil King's fingers were not so cold," Ed whined plaintively as Jet closed the bathroom door.  
  
He would have a tougher time trying to bathe the two then imaginable.  
  
~~  
  
^_^ Reviews please! OR I WILL STEAL YOUR CHEESECAKE. 


	4. Whale Ed

Thank you all for your reviews. I feel wanted! .  
  
Disclaimer: Yeah yeah, I don't own Cowboy Bebop. However I do own original character Andre Riccetti, even if he does play a very small role. On with the show.  
  
"AAAAAAAAAAAGH!! JET-PERSON HAS GOTTEN SOAP IN RAINBOW EDWARD'S EYES!"  
  
Jet dodged a flailing wet arm. "If you stopped thrashing around so much, maybe it wouldn't happen! Ed!"  
  
Ein made a desperate escape attempt by scrabbling up the side of the tub, but Jet pushed him back in. "Where do you think you're going, Ein? You'll get paint paw-prints all over my ship!"  
  
"Yip!" whined Ein.  
  
"Shut up..."  
  
Edward dived underneath the water, watching bubbles from her mouth break on the soapy surface. All the paint coming off her made the water a dark blue, and glitter-specks shone in and out across her vision. Edward grinned. Just like being under the sea! Now that she was so rudely stripped of her Rainbow Warrior markings, she could transform into...Whale Ed!  
  
She sucked in some paint-flavoured water and wrinkled her nose.  
  
"Ed?" Jet peered into the tub. Edward was lying flat on the bottom, her eyes closed, like she was sleeping. Her orange hair fanned over her face. Jet frowned: he couldn't tell if she was playing a game or not.  
  
"Edwar –"  
  
SPLASH!  
  
Ed broke through the surface, spat water in his face (but to her she was jetting water through her 'blow-hole'), made a nasal whale-like sound, ("AAAAAAAAAAOUUUUUUUU!!") and promptly disappeared back beneath the water. All in five seconds.  
  
She stared at Jet from under the water, who was frantically wiping his face and cursing. Lost in her own world, she narrated to herself in her mind:  
  
[Edward the Blue Whale has been swimming long and far. She will now sing the whale song to attract a possible mate...what is a mate?] Ed frowned. [Mate is like a friend...Jet-person is Whale Ed's friend...Jet-person will be my mate! Edward the Blue Whale shall sing her whale mating song to make him become Edward's mate!]  
  
"AaaaeeeeeeiiOOOOOOuaaaaaaaahggggh," she intoned underwater.  
  
"Jesus Christ," Jet muttered, wiping his brow. "Ed! Stop playing around!"  
  
"EeeeeeeeooooouuuuuIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAeeeeeeee...." Was the gargled response.  
  
"EDWARD..."  
  
Uh-oh. Jet-person was using his angry tone. Ed shot up again, expelled a graceful spout of water, turned to Jet and said, in whale-speech, "Wooooould yooOOOOooooou liiiiike too beeEEEEeee myyyy maaaaate?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Jet-person would like to be Edward's mate?" she said promptly, momentarily dropping her Whale Ed facade.  
  
"Your MATE?" Jet stared.  
  
"My FRIEND!" Ed shouted happily, suddenly throwing her arms around Jet and giving him a wet hug. She dived out of the tub and wrapped herself in a towel while Jet knelt there, ears going red. He hastily grabbed a washcloth and wiped his neck to cover his embarrassment.  
  
"Of course I'm your friend, Ed..."  
  
"YAAAAAAAY!"  
  
"Dry yourself off and put some new clothes on, ok? I'm gonna go check on Spike."  
  
"Aye-aye, Captain Jet!" She shook her orange hair out like a dog, spraying him. Ein, now clean, followed suit.  
  
"Great..."  
  
He left the two snarling over the right of who deserved the last dry towel.  
  
Jet knocked on Spike's door.  
  
"Spike? You in there?"  
  
"Cheesecake," came a dull voice. Jet sighed, and opened the door. Spike was lying facedown on his pillow, one arm draped over the bed, clutching a cigarette. He turned his head away when he heard Jet come in.  
  
"Damn woman stole my cheesecake. Ate the whole thing. I bet it tasted nice," he added maliciously.  
  
"Spike –"  
  
"You know, whenever I ate one, it was like eating a tiny slice of heaven. Just to taste that creamy cake in my mouth made me forget about Vicious and the Syndicate and what I was. Now it's all gone...."  
  
Jet sighed. Spike was always strangely poetic on the subject of food, especially now that he was in depressed mood. Besides Julia, food was probably the nearest thing to his heart. He leaned against the doorjamb, scratching the back of his head as Spike continued talking.  
  
"...Jet?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"...Nothing."  
  
The older cowboy rubbed his face. "You want me to go find you another one, don't you?" he asked wearily, but Spike couldn't see his smile.  
  
"No. I mean yes. I mean, that's ok, I can...go on without it." The amount of sadness and pain in his voice surprised Jet.  
  
"Hey, Spike, it's no problem, I can probably find that guy again..."  
  
"No, Jet. Just leave me alone for a while, will you?"  
  
"Sure, Spike." Jet closed the door. Then he rolled his eyes and shook his head. Only Spike could that melodramatic over a dessert. "Cheesecake must sure be special to him," he mumbled as he walked away.  
  
"JEEEEEET!!"  
  
That piercing voice that could only belong to Faye Valentine, Resident Shrew, made him wince. Jet turned and folded his arms across his chest, looking stern. "What is it now, Faye?"  
  
"Ship?" she snapped; hands planted on her hips, "Redtail? Now? I need to get away from here!"  
  
"For good?"  
  
"I don't know yet," she said sulkily, looking away from his gaze. "All I know is that I need to put a good 500 miles between myself and a certain Spike Spiegel."  
  
Jet lazily reached for his pocket and put a cigarette in his mouth. "Well, that's too bad. I can't fix it right now, I'm going out myself." He lit up.  
  
"What!?"  
  
"You heard me, Faye."  
  
"So you're just going to run off and leave me alone on the Bebop with...with Ed and Spike!?"  
  
"Looks like it." He grinned.  
  
"I can't believe you!" she shrieked, cheeks going red, "Where are you going? For how long?"  
  
"Personal business. And don't worry Faye, I'm not going to be gone long: like I'd leave you three alone on MY ship for longer then 24 hours? Ha! Sit tight."  
  
"Jet!"  
  
But he was already gone.  
  
The Hammerhead soared out of the Bebop's belly, turned, and made for the Martian capital. Jet drummed his fingers on the controls. He couldn't believe his crewmates were acting like this over a bit of cheesecake. Then again, they acted childish about most small things. Why was HE the only real adult on this ship? Where would they all be without him? Jet smiled. Probably homeless: he'd let them stay on his Bebop out of the kindness of his heart. Spike would have been dead from one of his earlier reckless escapades (Jet wouldn't have been there to stop him and make him think it over), and Faye...still drifting about, lost, and broke. Ed would have been stuck on Earth. Jet blew smoke out slowly.  
  
What did he get in return for feeding them and giving them shelter?  
  
"Jet, are we there yet?" "Jet, fix my ship!" "Jet, fix the shower!" "Jet, what is this? Is it supposed to be food?" "Jet, I'm hungry!" "Jet-person...how many monkeys could you fit in a toilet roll?" (That last one had been weird).  
  
He laughed. Their company, however un-delightful it may be; that's what he got. Jet didn't mind: he didn't ask for gratitude. He didn't expect it, for one thing. Even though they were crammed together on the same ship, all lived their lives separate from each other.  
  
[Sooner or later they're all going to leave you, Black Dog: whether it be by death or not,] his mind spoke up. [Without a word of thanks.]  
  
[Yeah, I know.]  
  
[So what are you going to do now?]  
  
[Try and find Spike another cheesecake. Otherwise he won't eat anything and he'll drive me insane from his moping.]  
  
[Good call.]  
  
The Hammerhead skimmed over the city, then dropped. Jet put his shades on and grinned at his reflection: he looked pretty bad-ass, if he did say so himself...  
  
Jet leaned over the counter at the shop owned by Andre Riccetti: the man who could apparently make the finest cheesecakes, pastries, and eclairs known to mankind since the Gate explosion on Earth.  
  
Andre Riccetti was of Italian descent, an olive-complexioned, dark-haired, quiet man who held the talent of a master chef at his fingertips. It was said that his family once served the royal court of the Medicis way back in the 15th century, and their culinary skills were legendary. Jet was just impressed that Andre could make something that Spike would actually eat. Andre owed him a few favours, and both men knew this.  
  
Jet gave the man a grim smile, and the other knew that the ex-cop meant business. They leaned close in a furtive manner.  
  
"Something I can do for you, cowboy?" Andre smiled easily, dusting off a beautifully prepared plate of praline chocolates.  
  
"I think you know."  
  
"I think I do."  
  
Jet grinned. "Got any cheesecake?"  
  
A/N: Don't look at me like I'm some cheesecake-obsessed freak! R&R I tell you! Bwahaha!


	5. A Cowboy & his Liquor

Sorry for lack of updates. Thank you to all reviewers, I worship the ground you walk on. I don't know if this funny, but it's a chapter so be thankful haha.   
  
Disclaimer: Don't own Cowboy Bebop. Sad but true.

* * *

Faye looked down at her grumbling stomach. [God, I'm so hungry. When's Jet getting back? He should know better then to leave me alone with Edward and Spike on the Bebop with no food. Bastard.] She scowled. It had been an hour since Jet had left. She was lying stretched out on the couch, imagining various delicacies float across the ceiling. First it was sushi. Then egg fried rice with chicken. Then ribs. Coated with that honey glaze sauce she remembered so well, that tang that seemed to glisten on your tongue...  
  
"Oh, stop it," she grumbled to herself, staring bleakly at the ceiling.  
  
"Hey, there goes some pork chops..." Faye blinked. "Stop talking to yourself."  
  
[If he doesn't come back soon, I might be forced into cannibalism or possibly insanity. Ed's way too skinny and Spike's a bit lean but...no, stop it. Don't think that way.]  
  
[I wish I hadn't eaten all of Spike's cheesecake]. Unconsciously, she licked her lips. [It was pretty damn fine].  
  
Faye began to name the imaginary foodstuffs that floated across her sight. "Crab cakes...moo goo pan...tiger shrimp...chocolate...ice cream..."  
  
"What about cheesecake?"  
  
Faye gave a little scream of fright and shot up. Spike stood behind her, hands in his pockets, ever-present cigarette hanging over his lip. When she first looked him in the face there was a sly look she didn't like in his discolored eyes...but that disappeared. Now he just looked tired and bored.  
  
She gave him a little smirk. "Cheesecake too."  
  
She waited for him to start arguing again, or try and punch her or something but he just said, "Where's Jet?"  
  
"Out."  
  
"Out where?"  
  
"I don't know. He said it was personal business." Faye was still wary. Spike started to open his mouth when Edward tackled him from behind.  
  
"Spike-Spike and Faye-Faye are here with Edward!" she cried gleefully, clambering up onto Spike's shoulders. In one hand she was clutching a toilet roll.  
  
"Get off," Spike said automatically, but he didn't try to remove her. Edward peered into his face. "Spike-person would like to help Edward?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Jet-person has confiscated Edward's paint set," the hacker said, a little sadly. "We," she pointed to Ein, "may have been stripped of our Warrior markings, but that does not mean that Radical Edward is not a Rainbow Warrior at heart!" She waved the toilet paper roll in his face. "Spike- Spike wanna help us make a tee-pee?"  
  
"No, bad idea," Faye snapped, trying to take the toilet paper roll away. Ed snarled at her and she recoiled, looking extremely peeved.  
  
"Don't do that, Faye," Spike smirked, patting Edward on the head. He looked like a pirate captain with his pet monkey. "You're insulting the Rainbow Warrior Code of Honor."  
  
"Neeeeee!" Ed agreed.  
  
Faye stared at him pityingly. "Did I just hear you say that?"  
  
"Yes. Ah, it confirms my superior intelligence..."  
  
"Your what?"  
  
Spike just smiled. Edward nodded her head vigorously. "We must construct a Teepee of Sorrow, in remembrance of those two proud Rainbow Warriors who lost their souls and markings in the Bath of Tears," she said solemnly. Then she brightened. "Do not lament for their passing, fellow Warriors!" she announced to a bemused Spike and Faye, "For it is myth among the Rainbow Warrior clan that Warriors whom have died in water, their spirits reincarnate and come back into being as whales, and it was so." She nodded, beaming.  
  
Spike stared blankly at her. Faye blinked.  
  
Edward stared innocently with her amber cat's eyes. "Spike-Spike want to help Edward and Ein make a memorial teepee?"  
  
"Ok..."  
  
And so it became that, two hours later, Spike found himself lying sheepishly in the middle of the lounge, which had been successfully teepee'd by Edward. Long swathes of toilet paper wound around the pipes on the ceiling, the couch, etc. Spike blinked: he didn't recall how he'd let the situation get out of control.  
  
He did remember saying he wanted to go get a drink. He remembered Faye departing in a huff for her own room. And that was all he remembered until now, waking up on the floor.  
  
Then he noticed that in fact he was gripping something hard and bottle- shaped...he had a beer bottle in his hand.  
  
Oh.  
  
Well, that would explain why he couldn't remember anything. And why his vision seemed to waver at odd moments. In fact it would also explain the...seven...other empty beer bottles near his feet. He didn't even remember Jet buying any beer.  
  
Spike scratched his head. But that action alone was too complex for his intoxicated mind and he stopped quickly. He laid his head back, causing his brain to slosh sickeningly inside his skull.  
  
"Edward?" he tried.  
  
A curious giggle answered him.  
  
"Edward?" Spike winced and tried to get up. This failed. [Gaah, my head...]  
  
Suddenly he heard the door open, and large footsteps approaching. That could only be Jet, back from his little soiree. Spike winced, his acidic stomach giving an uncomfortable gurgle. He tried to think himself out of existence.  
  
"Spike? Yo, Spike!"  
  
The cowboy tried to dig his head into the floor.  
  
"Faye? Edward? Where are you g- JESUS H. CHRIST!!"  
  
Spike cringed as a large shadow fell over him like a leaden weight. He curled up, knocking the empty bottles by his feet, the sound produced rather like glassy funeral bells. [Your own funeral, Cowboy.]  
  
"Spike!"  
  
"Yeah, that's me." Spike didn't want to open his eyes. "Quit shouting. I have a hangover."  
  
He yelped as a cybernetic arm lifted him effortlessly off the floor, he had no choice now but to open his eyes...and found himself staring into Jet's bluey-green ones. Which were glinting dangerously, a bad sign.  
  
"What happened?" Jet rumbled, letting Spike swing there (although Spike was shorter by a few inches, it definitely felt like a few miles).  
  
"I don't know," Spike croaked feebly. His mouth felt like a hot desert. And he began wishing he'd find an oasis, drink the whole thing, then find a palm tree or something to crawl under and sleep till the End of Days, letting its cool shadow welcome his tired body, the soft sand cushion him and the desert sounds sing him to sleep-  
  
Jet shook him and Spike's eyes snapped open. "Stop daydreaming! Where's Edward and Faye?"  
  
"I don't know," Spike repeated in a dull monotone. Jet shook him again and he yelped, feeling like a child who was being scolded.  
  
"Give 2 good reasons why I should give you this," he heard Jet say, and Spike focused his eyes long enough to see a beautiful cheesecake in a neat white box, with a small note pinned to the outside. Instinctively he snatched for it but Jet moved it back.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Because you're a swell guy and you won't let a friend starve?"  
  
"Friend? Really?"  
  
"Er...crewmate? Partner?"  
  
"Ex-partner if you're not careful." He set it down.  
  
"Ed wanted to build a teepee," Spike muttered lamely, "I said I'd help...I didn't do it!" he added quickly, "I don't remember what happened. I just remember thinking...that I needed a drink..."  
  
Jet's scowl deepened. "Where's Edward?"  
  
"Um..."  
  
"Edward ish here," came a giggly voice from above. Both men looked up. Toilet paper streamers rustled, and Edward swung out into view, clinging monkey-like to the pipes on the ceiling. She was grinning lopsidedly; and wider then usual. Her orange hair stuck out in odd directions. Spike thought her brilliant eyes seemed hazy and unfocused.  
  
In one hand she was clutching a beer bottle.  
  
Spike's brain screamed at him. [OH SHIT OH SHIT WE ARE IN DEEP SHIT...]  
  
"Edward is...heeheehee!...mourning for the soulsh of ther Rainbow Warryersh," Ed slurred, giggling. She waved her bottle. "Libationsh have been made in offering! Shpike-Shpike wash ther Master of Sherimonies..." She grabbed the bottle with her feet, pointing it at Spike who was trying to disappear into his jacket, aware that Jet's hand was trembling.  
  
"You gave Edward ALCOHOL!?" Jet roared in a very loud voice that echoed around the Bebop, making Spike's head whistle and clammer. "ARE YOU INSANE??"

"Hold on a minute, Jet," Spike said weakly, trying to wriggle loose, head reverberating, "I did not GIVE Edward any alcohol...she must've...uh...stolen one of my bottles?"  
  
The response was an animal-like growl. Spike was exceedingly aware at that moment of how much Jet looked like an angry grizzly. His mind recalled a random obscure fact that no force in nature was more dangerous then an angry bear protecting its cubs. In which case, he knew he was in deep trouble.  
  
The sound of high-heeled boots clacking and then stopping made both men turn their heads. Faye stood above them, blinked at the sight of all of them, and tried to slink away. "Uh, looks like you're busy...I'll come back later."  
  
"Stay where you are!" Jet snarled, his command successfully pinning her to the ground. Faye stuck her lip out and warily moved to the railing. Above, Edward gibbered like a monkey.  
  
Spike, who was watching all of this, cringed as Jet turned his head back.  
  
"I knew it was a mistake leaving you three alone," he growled. He sounded more disappointed then angry. "I was under the impression that you were half-way responsible adults. I guess I was wrong, right?"  
  
"I tried to take the toilet paper away from Ed," came Faye's voice, sounding defensive. "She tried to bite me. If you ask me, I think she picked up rabies on Earth."  
  
"No one asked you," Spike mumbled.  
  
"This is your fault," Faye shot back. "You deciding to help Edward turn the Bebop into a toilet paper factory! That was our last roll, by the way. Did you ever consider that?"  
  
"I don't need to use it as much as you do," Spike grumbled. He was feeling sick and his head had a real brass band going in there.  
  
"You're an ass!" she snapped.  
  
"You're a shrew!"  
  
"Go to Hell!"  
  
"Ladies first!"  
  
"Both of you shut up!" Jet shouted and Spike twisted in his grip. "Yaagh...Jet, don't do that...my head." He wilted as Jet gave him a completely non-sympathetic look.  
  
"Jet-pershon?" came a small voice. "Edward....hic!...ishn't feeling so...so....well."  
  
Ed hung limply from the ceiling by her feet. Jet dropped Spike unceremoniously onto the floor and caught her just in time as she fell. Edward blinked at him slowly.  
  
"Alcohol ish bad for you," she announced, before promptly falling asleep in Jet's arms. In doing so she dropped the beer bottle that was in her hand, it landed on Spike below. It him in the stomach. He doubled over, wondering if he was going to be sick. Blue lights flashed in front of him.  
  
[Maybe I'm dying of alcohol poisoning,] his brain mumbled.  
  
[What about that new cheesecake?]  
  
[Can't eat if you're dead.]  
  
[I don't want Faye to eat it again.]

[Then don't pass out, cowboy.]  
  
[Am I passing ou- ]  
  
Emptiness.  
  
Jet looked at Spike on the floor and sighed noisily. He appeared to be breathing at any rate, so that was ok. He looked up at Faye, who had scraped together the decency to look guilty.  
  
"Get rid of some of this toilet paper," he rumbled, "I'm going to put Edward to bed, and then try and do something for Spike...he's drunken way too much. Anything you can't reach I'll deal with later."  
  
To his surprise, she didn't start complaining, though the look in her green eyes strongly suggested she wanted to. Jet stumped out with Edward dangling limply in his arms, head thrown back, a dreamy expression on her face. Ein tagged along at his heels.  
  
He gently laid her down in bed, and put the covers over her. Ein whined, and cowboy looked down at him. "It's best if she sleeps it off...she probably won't remember anything in the morning anyway." He bent down and scratched the corgi's ears.  
  
"Let me know if something happens, ok?"  
  
"Bark!"  
  
Jet hesitated, then reached forward and gently removed Edward's goggles from her head, setting them down beside her. Just so she could sleep comfortably.  
  
Jet walked back into the lounge, where Faye was struggling to remove the toilet paper with an incredibly disdainful look on her face. "Welcome to my world," he told her when she glared at him.  
  
The bounty hunter folded his arms as he looked down at Spike's crumpled form.  
  
"And just what am I going to do with you?"

* * *

A/N: Ok, excuses: I haven't been able to update any of my fanfiction very much because it's finals time, meaning I am screwed. I am trying to find time to write in between mindless panicking. All reviewers get a CHEESECAKE! (throws random cheesecakes) End note. . 


	6. Independent Woman

A/N: Gaah it took me soo long to write this. Not sure about the quality but it's here, another chapter. Enjoy, cowboys.  
  
Spike woke woozily, aware that he was bouncing up and down. The movement made him feel nauseous. His brain sluggishly suggested that he was being carried over someone's shoulder. Spike told his brain to shut up; he didn't want to hear anymore from it, and grumpily passed out again.  
  
[[Flashback of one hour ago]]  
  
Spike sat down with a large paper bag on the couch next to Faye, feeling oddly satisfied. Perhaps this was because he'd gone down to a seedy mart down in the Martian city and bought a eight-pack of beer bottles for 7 woolongs. He idly lit another cigarette, then smoothly slid the cap off one bottle and drank. Ahhh, the joys of cheap beer.  
  
"PRESENTS!"  
  
"Uh uh, no way." Spike used one hand to hold back Edward, who was straining toward the bottles. "This stuff is for adults only. You're way too young."  
  
"Oh!" Ed whined, "Edward thought you brought her back some souvenirs!" She plopped down cross-legged next to his feet.  
  
"Sorry, kid." Spike blew smoke out, before easing himself back on the couch. He laid a sweating beer on his stomach, dropped his head back and closed his eyes. Then his nose twitched. Spike opened an eye.  
  
"What's that smell?"  
  
Faye gave him a withering look and held up her wrist. "It's a new perfume I bought. The smell of freshness may not be something you're used too, but get over it."  
  
"Well, it stinks."  
  
"Go somewhere else then."  
  
"I'm all nice and comfortable."  
  
"Well, this couch isn't your property. So I'm staying," Faye said, with dignity.  
  
"Edward thinks Faye-Faye smells like over-ripe fruit," Ed said, a little doubtfully.  
  
"Good grief," Faye snapped, "you two clowns couldn't smell a rose unless it was shoved up your nose. It's Summer Citrus Essence." She sniffed her wrist and sighed dreamily. "It smells like –"  
  
"- Rotten oranges, we know." Spike replied, taking another swig. He was only a little surprised to find that he'd gone through his first bottle already. Raising his head he saw the rest of the bottles were 3 feet away on the table: his brain began to calculate if it was worth getting up or not.  
  
Then he saw Edward looking at him with bright, eager eyes, and he had an idea.  
  
"Hey, Ed, wanna do something for me?"  
  
Edward brightened. "Ok, Spike-Spike!"  
  
"I hereby name thee my official Beer Monkey. When I want another beer, you will pass one to me."  
  
"Beer Monkey?" Faye looked revolted. Ed squealed and began making monkey noises. "Spike, that's cruel."  
  
"No it isn't. Beer Monkey! Hand me another bottle!" Spike grinned as Edward extended him one, hooting. "See? She likes it. Everyone's happy. Especially me." He unscrewed it and drank deeply. Faye stared at him, fascinated.  
  
"Are you really going to drink all of those?"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"It's just...stupid."  
  
Spike belched loudly. "I don't care."  
  
"You're setting a bad example to Edward. She'll grow up to be a drunk or something."  
  
Spike raised an eyebrow. "Who are you, Jet? Since when did you care about Edward?"  
  
Faye shifted uncomfortably. "She's just a little kid, ok? I don't think –HEY!" She swatted Edward away. "Stop touching my hair!"  
  
"Edward the Beer Monkey was just checking to see if you had fleas, Faye- Faye!" Ed chirped, giggling. Then she capered around the couch to Spike, who was laughing. Faye seethed, and began to straighten her hair, ignoring them. "I do NOT have fleas!"  
  
Spike waved his bottle, grinning. "Beer Monkey! I have six bottles to finish before Jet gets back! What's the hold up?"  
  
"You're disgusting." Faye stood. "Normally, I'd have a beer too, but not when you're like this."  
  
"Fine," Spike said, accepting his third bottle, "you can go and...and do whatever women do. I wasn't going to let you have any anyway." He drank, then looked up at Faye. "I'm supposed to be drinking away my sorrows. Why are you still here?"  
  
Faye glared at him, then snatched her little red jacket off the couch. "Be that way," she snapped. "I'm going to my room and when you start to sing drunkenly I'd better not be able to hear you." She flounced off in a huff. Spike peered after her and hiccuped. "Strange animals, women...like...a different species." He blinked. That was probably the deepest thought he'd had all day.  
  
Well, it was deep for him. He paused reflectively, and slowly brought the bottle to his lips.  
  
Three more bottles later...  
  
"Y'know," Spike said morosely, "all I wanted was my damn slice of cheesecake. There's nothing wrong with appreshe...appreshia...appresh...with liking fine culininary...colonery...good food. And damn if New York-style cheesecake isn't the best thing there is...why can't other people see that?" He looked expectantly at his audience, a row of empty bottles. "Why can't anyone see how special it is to me? It has a place...in my heart...I have a heart, you know," he snapped suddenly, then turned gloomy again. God, he was drunk.  
  
Spike rolled his head back. "Ed? Beer Monkey? I'm still capable of speech and am conscious...which is bad. Where'sthestupidkid...ED!"  
  
Edward popped up, waving her long arms. "Edward the Beer Monkey is here, Spike-Spike! Hoo hoo hoo ha ha!"  
  
"I thought you were teepeeing the Bebop," Spike yawned, holding the bottle so beer dribbled onto his chest. He tried to lick the falling drops.  
  
"Edward HAS teepeed the Bebop," Edward said slyly, then changed her expression into one of sorrow. She bowed her head. "Edward must mourn for the loss of our fellow Rainbow Warriors."  
  
"Amen," Spike slurred, staggering to his feet. He put his head back, arms outstretched. "O God, who'art in Heaven, Hollow Bee thy Name...uh...hic!"  
  
"Spike-Spike makes a good Master of Ceremonies," Ed giggled, clapping with her feet. Spike gave her a wobbly grin, turned and slipped on some toilet paper on the floor. He lay flat on the ground, mumbling feebly about cheesecake and bees. Ed clambered over to the table, noticing that one last beer bottle was left, sweating and unopened. She leaned forward and sniffed it. There was a pungent, heady smell that made her blink a few times. Ed gave the cap an experimental lick. Nothing. She peered at Spike on the floor, then looked back at the bottle.  
  
Edward unscrewed the cap and took a sip, her eyes bugging at the rich taste. "Whooh...Spike-Spike has good strong medicine! Chief Edward of the Rainbow Warriors will drinnk it aaall!" She smacked her lips, and looked at Ein. "Though Spike-Spike should know better then to give white man's liquor to natives of the Rainbow Warrior tribe...heehee!"  
  
Ed leapt about, flailing her arms, doing some strange sort of war-dance. "Aw-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-waaa!" she undulated, waving the bottle.  
  
Ein lay down and put his paws over his eyes.  
  
Peace on the Bebop started to go downhill from there.  
  
[[End flashback]]  
  
"ACKPTH!"  
  
Spike gasped as his head was dunked in ice-cold water, and pulled out again. He scrabbled at Jet, who was holding him by the scruff. "I'm AWAKE, dammit!"  
  
"Coulda fooled me. For a while you were pretty far gone, mumbling about oranges and cheesecake." Jet supported Spike as he leaned against him weakly, droplets glistening in his hair. "You ok?"  
  
"Arrrghhll."  
  
"Hey, no puking on the captain. That's not allowed on the Bebop."  
  
"What about on the bathmat?"  
  
"You clean it up."  
  
"In that case, I won't." Spike checked his roiling stomach, grimacing. "I used to be able to drink 8 bottles without getting smashed. It's a sad day when a cowboy can't hold his liquor, and it ain't gonna be me."  
  
They made it out into the corridor, Spike with an arm around Jet's strong shoulders. The younger cowboy hung his head. "I didn't mean for it to get out of control like that, Jet. I was bored. All of a sudden drinking a whole lot seemed like a good idea."  
  
Jet sighed. "You know I know that."  
  
Spike fidgeted. "How's Edward?"  
  
"You can see for yourself, if you want." Spike nodded. Jet slowly opened Edward's door and was greeted by a welcoming yip from Ein. The data-dog looked up them, panting, from on top Edward's bed. He wagged his tail.  
  
"How's it going, Ein? All ok?" Jet scratched him behind the ears. Spike looked at the bed. Edward was still asleep, curled up like a cat, still with her dreamy smile. He rubbed his nose and looked away.  
  
"SPIKE-SPIKE!"  
  
Spike yelped and was hit by Hurricane Ed. "Edward?! Jesus, I thought you were –"  
  
"Radical Edward was pretending to go sleep-sleep so Ed could jump on Spike!" Ed hugged him with surprising strength for a 13-year-old. Spike eased her away, looking embarrassed at Jet's grin. "Yeah, ok, whatever."  
  
"Spike-person is all wet." Edward announced, peering at him. "Did Spike- person make friends with a water balloon?"  
  
"No, but he did get intimate with the sink bowl." Jet smirked. Spike gave him the bird. "So says the man that does strange things with his bonsai plants."  
  
"What the- why, you- Spike!" Jet growled. Spike laughed and made a beeline for the lounge before Jet could decide to maim him or not. Too bad that Faye Valentine happened to be an obstacle in his way.  
  
"Ugh! GET OFF, SPIKE!" She shoved him away, and began picking up her bag again, muttering.  
  
"Ok, ok," Spike held his palms up, then narrowed his eyes. "Hey...where are you going? Not that I care, but if you've stolen anything of mine," he added maliciously. "Like my new cheesecake, for instance..."  
  
Faye stared at him, then slowly, gleefully, licked her lips.  
  
Spike barely noticed that his world was falling around his ears. Faye blinked at the sudden heat of his gaze. It was practically burning into her skin. Spike was standing rigid, his eyes a pale, deadly tan. She could see a faint film of sweat on his upper lip.  
  
"You...you..."  
  
He leapt at her, but a muscled arm caught him around the waist and held him back. Spike struggled violently. "Let me GO, Jet!" he yelled, twisting, "That bitch ate my new cheesecake!"  
  
Jet stared at Faye, mindless of Spike's attempts to get free. "You didn't, Faye."  
  
"No, I didn't," she replied coolly, and snapped her fingers. "God, you men are so stupid. I didn't touch Lunkhead's precious little cheesecake. It's still in the fridge." Spike stopped struggling. Faye raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not that much of a mean bitch. Besides, I wanted to see the expression on your face. It was worth it, by the way." She shouldered her bag, and began to walk towards the Bebop's docking bay. She lazily waved a hand at them from over her shoulder without looking back. "Au revoir, boys ."  
  
"Wait a minute. Faye- where're you going?" Jet released Spike and followed her.  
  
"Away. You know how it is. I'm my own woman, and it's time to make tracks. That little beer incident made me realise myself." She climbed through the portal into the ship's bay. "Don't wait up."  
  
"But...but I haven't fixed the Redtail!"  
  
"I did." Faye strode over to it. "It took sweat, tears, and a lot of broken nails, but I managed."  
  
"But...wait, woman!" Jet ran to catch up. "Faye..."  
  
Spike appeared at his side. "You're leaving because I wouldn't let you have one of my beers?"  
  
Faye blew her bangs noisily. "No, Spike."  
  
"Must've been the shower incident then."  
  
"Forget it." She threw her bag into the cockpit, and climbed in. Spike leaned against the door, looking down at her with an unreadable expression. "So the great Faye Valentine is leaving the Bebop to play her own tune, huh?"  
  
"Gotta find a new rhythm." She smiled tightly, then fished around in her purse for a cigarette. She stuck it in her mouth, then eyed Spike and Jet. "What? Are you two going to start crying? Did I mean that much to you?"  
  
A lighter appeared under her nose. Spike grinned. "We're waiting for you to break down first, seeing as you'll miss a couple of bachelors like us."  
  
Faye lit up. "You're dripping water from your hair onto my lap. Move."  
  
Spike snorted. Jet elbowed him out of the way and took his place. "A lone female bounty hunter, huh? Sexy." He grinned.  
  
She drummed her fingers on the controls, not looking at him. "Are you two going to let me leave or do I have to blast a hole in the Bebop?"  
  
Jet raised his arms. "Well, now that you put it that way –"  
  
"FAAYE-FAAYE!"  
  
Edward streaked through the portal, holding Ein in her arms, and clambered up Jet till she was perched on his shoulders. "Faye-Faye was leaving to go food-shopping without saying good-bye to Ed OR Ein! That's mean, Faye-Faye! When are you coming back?" She craned her face forward.  
  
Faye took a slow drag. "I'm not going food-shopping, Edward. I'm leaving. For good."  
  
"Edward believes that you should always do good, for good. So Faye-Faye is leaving for a good cause, ne?"  
  
"Yeah," she said softly, "For me."  
  
"O-kay!" She held Ein forward. "Faye-Faye is leaving, Ein. Say good-bye!" Ein yipped.  
  
"Edward! He'll get fleas all over my cockpit!" She gingerly shoved him away. Edward giggled, and hugged the dog to her chest. Jet gave the Redtail a farewell smack with his hand. "I guess you're going then," he said gruffly. "Don't want to hold you up."  
  
"Bye," she said coolly. She gave them a little wave. "So long, cowboys. It's been fun." The Redtail's cockpit closed, shielding her. Jet and Spike went back into the bridge, and watched as the Redtail shot out of the Bebop, making a path for the stars. Edward waved her arms at it through the glass. "BRING ME BACK A SOUVENIR, FAYE-FAYE!"  
  
"I'll be damned," Jet muttered, lighting a cigarette. "She left."  
  
They looked at each other.  
  
Spike grinned. "Hey, this is great. No more annoying shrew-lady. We can stink and not do the dishes and no one will care."  
  
"I was the only one that did the dishes," Jet reminded him.  
  
"Oh yeah. Well, we can leave the toilet seat up. And...best of all...we won't have to split any more bounties three-ways." Spike took a deep, satisfied drag. "I tell ya, Jet, life's looking a lot better now that that wench has took off." Jet gave his rumbling laugh. They nodded at each other, both with we-don't-give-a-shit-that-Faye's-left looks on their faces. Jet broke the silence. "You want your cheesecake?"  
  
"Yeah. Oh man," Spike moaned as he strode over into the kitchen. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this moment. A whole cheesecake..."  
  
"It's yours, pard."  
  
Spike whipped open the fridge door. When he saw the shelf a smile stretched across his face, and he went misty-eyed. "Oh Jet..."  
  
"What? Are you going to say that you love me or something? I know that," Jet cracked.  
  
"Not that." Spike's hand on the fridge trembled. "Jet."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Spike's voice was a whisper. "It's not there, Jet."  
  
"...Whaat?" Jet appeared at his side. The neat white box with its little note had gone. Instead there was a can of beans with a note taped on the side. Spike snatched it.  
  
I COULDN'T RESIST, COWBOY. I WON'T EAT IT, I'LL JUST LOOK AT IT AND THINK OF YOU. I KNOW YOU LOVE CHEESECAKE. TOODLES! --FAYE  
  
"Bitch," Spike said. He was breathing hard. "Bitchbitchbitch...YOU BITCH, FAYE!!" he screamed. "MY CHEESECAKE, DAMMIT!" He spun towards Jet. "Unlock the Swordfish II! I'm going to rescue my cheesecake and then shoot that woman down!"  
  
"Spike! For god's sakes, I can get another –"  
  
"That vindictive shrew. I've got to –"  
  
"No, Spike. Let her go."  
  
Spike sagged. "Let my cheesecake go?"  
  
Jet rolled his eyes. "Um...yeah, that's who I meant."  
  
"Fine." Spike smoked furiously. "You're right. That's the best way. Stew in fury and resentment for a couple of weeks before hunting her down."  
  
"I didn't say that."  
  
"It works for me."  
  
On the Redtail:  
  
Faye gave a glance into the seat beside her. The cheesecake looked pretty damn good from where she was sitting. [But no,] she thought, [I need so I can remember the look on Spike's face when he thought I ate it. And imagining the look in his face now.] She smirked.  
  
For a brief instant, she felt a tiny pang of regret. Then it went away and she sighed in relief.  
  
[Get over it, Space Cowboy.]  
  
A/N: Well you know what to do. Review! 


	7. It's A Long Road Home

Disclaimer: No own Cowboy Bebop.

A/N: I know. I know. The long-ass time it takes to actually update something. For a long time I was suffering from Bebop-withdrawal, in which to my horror I couldn't write anything...well, Bebop. I must be missing some key brain lobe. Anyway...this chapter was written after I had a very close encounter of pasta with pesto sauce.

I do own: an anonymous, quiet old man who happens to be looking at a magazine at the racetrack.

* * *

"Lunch!"

"Yess!" Spike punched his fist in the air. "No more tepid soup in a cup! No more shitty take-out! What is it?"

"Well," Jet said smugly, striding in with two bowls, "Since we got all that money from that huge bounty-head...I thought I'd bring a little style into the Bebop and go gourmet." He proudly set down his new creation.

Spike looked at his steaming bowl warily. His mind went through the following processes to identify what was currently splattered on it: Animal? No. Vegetable? He hoped not. Mineral? Unlikely. Mulch and/or possibly bird shit? Yes.

Jet towered above him, looking expectant, his muscled arms crossed, a ladle in one hand. He was wearing his cooking apron, HEIL TO THE CHEF. "Well?"

Spike shrugged. "I give up. What is it?"

There was the pause of one who knows that the result of his slaving in the kitchen is about to under-appreciated. Again.

"Food," came the low growl.

"No it's not. Unless it recently passed through something."

"Spike..." 

"Ok, ok. Um..." He prodded and scraped at the green mass like an archaeologist unearthing a hard lump that could either be pottery or fossilised shit.

"Ah ha!" he announced. "My exploration reveals that there appears to be linguini under all this green mush."

"It's not green mush. I gave you the packet. You read it."

"Did I?"

"Didn't you?"

"I can _read?" _Spike laughed.

"Spike! It's pesto sauce, dammit! Normal pesto sauce! It has spinach, garlic, basil, olive oil -"

The cowboy wiggled his eyebrows. "I beg to differ. It looks like goose shit. Or possibly pond scum."

Jet leaned down from his height to where Spike was sitting and thrust the ladle in his face. "Eat it. Or starve."

Spike licked his lips. "Can't we get Chinese take-out like normal people?"

"Neeeow!" Ed leapt over the couch and crouched by the bowl, where she unceremoniously let her face fall in with a gooey splat.

"I guess not," Spike said sourly. "Normal people don't have monkeys for pets." Jet shook his head. "Your choice," he rumbled.

"Ed thinksh it tashe goood!" Edward burbled. She lifted her face and both bounty hunters saw the green slime dripping off it so she resembled some primordial creature would've that crawled out of Earth's first seas.

"Hey, _I_ asked for pasta." Spike leaned back and scratched himself. _"You_ gave me The Swamp Thing."

"Edward, don't play with your food!"

"Edward is not playing. Edward is...THE SWAMP THING! RAWR!"

Jet sighed wearily. "Nice going, Spike."

Spike thought it was time to reassert himself. "Jet," he began calmly, seeing he would have to explain the finer points of cooking to his friend, "A pasta sauce likes this leaves something to be desired...like edible foodstuffs, and a recognisable smell. Now: meat sauce. Basically, tomatoes and meat. Spaghetti bolognese...." He quickly wiped his chin, "that's spaghetti sauce. Or carbonara, you know, cheese and bacon. Not, uh..." (cautious fork prod) "...wet compost."

"I give up!" Jet threw his hands in the air. "Spike, if we had been starving for three weeks, with absolutely no food left on this ship...and you'd already eaten all of your cigarettes and the pack," he added sharply as Spike opened his mouth, "would you eat it?"

They both turned and stared at the pasta, with its suspicious algae-like growth. Spike almost swore he saw it move.

"Uh...no."

"Figures. And I was thinking you had some sort of survival instincts."

Spike fished out his Bic lighter and lit up a cig. He jabbed it at his friend. "Hey, I have excellent survival instincts. Right now they're tellin' me: don't eat that weird green shit, Spike baby, unless you want it to crawl right back up your throat."

They stared at each other. There was an uneasy silence for a full minute.

Jet spoke first, running a hand over his head. "Spike, do you feel like...there's something missing here?"

"I know what you mean." Smoke billowed out of the cowboy's mouth. "Crab and shrimp dumplings wouldn't go amiss –"

"No, dammit. Stop thinking about food for once –"

"That's gonna be hard."

"- It just feels like...ah, Hell." Jet shrugged." It feels like Faye should be here. Right now she would've said something bitchy to us."

"Yeah." Spike shrugged back. "Life goes on, huh? By the way, I would've eaten Ein before eating that goop..."

"Nonononononono!" The Swamp Thing snatched Ein to her chest. "Edward would never let you eat Ein!"

"Heh, who said I was going to ask permission?" Spike grinned.

Ed stared at him for a long moment, with a curious expression on her face. She leaned forward until Spike leaned back, wrinkling his nose. "What's with you, Ed? Gah, you're dripping slime everywhere!"

"Spike misses Faye-Faye," Ed said in a knowing tone. There was a hint of wonder in her voice.

"Whaaat?"

"Women's intuition," Edward said smugly, licking pesto sauce off her face. "Faye-Faye told me. When women can see things men can't figure out...'Like every freakin' time,' Faye-Faye said."

"I do NOT miss Faye." Spike smoked furiously. "That shrew stole TWO of my cheesecakes. That left a large hole in my heart and I'm never going to forgive her."

Jet sat down and began to eat his portion of the pasta. "Wow Spike, you have bits of heart left? I thought it was pretty much bullet-riddled with so many holes it was non-existent."

Spike smiled grimly, looking down at his bowl. That was true. A pretty large section had been torn away when Julia left him. That hole was more or less equal to the one where his beloved cheesecakes had once been. "Yeah, that's the truth."

-------

Space horse races, Mars City Racetrack.

Faye smiled at the bookie, leaning forward to display her considerable assets and her last raggedy wad of woolongs. "I said 7000 for Star Brite. I'm a desperate bounty hunter and I have a gun in my belt. And I have PMS." She growled.

The bookie tore his eyes away from her chest, accepted the money and gave her a slip. "Ok, Mrs. Valentine." He skirted away and Faye turned her eyes to the screens where the race was about to start.

She'd been through plenty of hard times before and damn if she wasn't going to pull through this one. Geez, away from the Bebop for three weeks and you're already a poor street urchin. Get a grip on your life, Faye.

The Bebop. She curled her lip. Sure she'd been broke then, but at least it was somewhere to stay. Jet had threatened to throw her out on numerous occasions but she could see past all that: he was too much of a big softie to throw anyone out. Otherwise Spike would've been history long ago.

Spike, she thought with an amused snort. Just because he knows karate he thinks he's the hottest stuff this side of Mars. No, make that the galaxy. And what is up with that hair?

Faye narrowed her eyes as the horses began their second lap. Her horse was in more or less in the lead but was straggling. I am cursing my goddamn luck.

"C'mon Star Brite, c'mon...make me win big you stupid horse...ahh! I didn't mean that!" Faye clenched her fists as the horse dropped back another place. "I didn't mean that!"

"You bettin' on Star Brite, missus?"

Faye slowly turned around. A harmless-looking old man was leaning against the counter, leafing through a racing magazine. He had kindly blue eyes, with laughter wrinkles at their edges. With his large, callused, arthritic hands he turned the pages with surprising deftness.

"Yes," she answered, sagging. "Why? What's wrong with him?"

"Oh nothin'...if you were bettin' on him in the last derby. Garland winner, that horse. But he's a bit old now...bit lame in the knees...s'probably goin' to be his last race. I'm surprised he hasn' fallin' down."

"Ohh..." Faye groaned, "I sure can pick 'em. I lose every single time!"

The other smiled. "Tough times for all of us, missus. That horse was jus' gettin' a bit old for the track. Like all of us...jus' gettin' a bit old. Me, anyway. You're still young, missus. There's other races."

"Not anymore," Faye muttered. "I bet my last 7000 on that horse...dammit!"

"'Taint' everythin', money."

"It is if you're a bounty hunter."

The old man nodded slowly. "Cowboy, eh? Thought so. Reckless betters. They commin' here, blow everythin' they got on a wild bet, and leave with emptier pockets then before."

Faye let her breath out. "Yeah. Story of my life."

Blue eyes twinkled at her. "Don' have no home to go to, missus?"

"Hah. Maybe I once did."

"Left to run your own race?"

"Damn straight. I didn't need the other three. We weren't a family. Just a bunch of no-hopes thrown together....AAAAAH! No no no...he came 5th!" Faye slumped, her head on the bar. "Dammit." She lifted her head. "Gotta light, mister?"

A cigarette appeared under her nose, along with a lighter, held by blunt fingers. "They say these'll be the death o' me, but I'm still standin'. There ya go, missus."

Faye examined the brand. "Lucky Strikes?! These are...ancient!"

"Yalp," the man chortled, secreting them back inside some inner pocket, "Still taste dern good, though. Ain't nothin' like the taste of aged tobacco. Y'can feel the rich decades on yer tongue."

"How old _are _you?" Faye blew out an appreciative cloud.

"Longer then I care t'remember." There was a glint as he snapped the lighter. "I only smoke these when I'm feelin' lucky. An' you look like you can lose some luck, missus."

Faye nodded, glancing at him. There were no tricks in that open face, which was as brown and lined as a walnut. Such simple honesty and wisdom she had only seen in the faces of children.

The ancient placed the magazine back on the counter and turned to go. "S'long way back home. That track's full o' pitfalls and potholes. I best be gettin' home, afore the twilight comes." He smiled at her. "Y'should be gettin' along home too, missus. It was nice chit-chattin' with you."

"Bye," Faye muttered, watching him leave. It occurred to her that he never asked who she was, or why she was here. He seemed to know that already. And she never asked his name either.

"Weird." She slouched out of the racetrack complex with her tail between her legs and climbed in the Redtail where she stared out for several hopeless minutes before taking off and climbing through the stratosphere.

"No money," she moaned, "which means no food, no clothes, no hot showers...what am I talking about? When was the last time I had a nice, hot shower?"

The Redtail gave a lurch and changed course. Faye flailed, and scrabbled for the controls. She stared at the screen.

NEW COORDINATES INPUTED

Faye blew her bangs away from her face. "What the hell...? Gah..."

DESTINATION RE-ROUTED

"To _where?_ From _what?"_ she shouted. She tried to take manual control of the ship.

MANUAL CONTROL ACCESS DENIED

"Fuck!"

MANUAL CONTROL ACCESS DENIED

"Shut up!"

INCOMING VIDEO MESSAGE

"Yeah," Faye growled, "Just you show me your face you smooth son of a bitch so I can remember to bust a cap in your ass..."

_Beep_. "HIII FAYE-FAAAYE!"

"Wha..._Edward??"_ She pointed. "You've done something to my ship, haven't you, you horrible little monkey!"

Edward laughed gleefully and peered out from under her goggles. "Faye-Faye should reeally update her security system. Edward got in eeaaasy!"

"Shut up, Ed. Just shut up." Faye denied any small feeling she had of possibly being happy to see Edward and pawed around in her purse for a smoke.

"You've been gone too long, Faye-Faye. It's time for you to come back so we're one again!"

"One what?" Faye snorted. "One group of dysfunctional losers? No thanks."

"Noo...one big happy family!" Ed hugged herself, grinning widely.

"_Listen_, Ed. We were not a family. We were nothing like a family, got that?"

Edward's grin became sly. "What is a family then, Faye-Faye?"

Faye rolled her eyes. "Um, I don't have time for this. Unlock my controls." She tried to swing left. The Redtail lurched and kept going on its new computerised path.

"Redtail can't read your commands. It only is under control from Tomato. It is bringing you to the Bebop. Ha ha! Tell me, Faye-Faye."

"_Shit!"_ She thumped the glass. "A group of related, supportive individuals, ok? In other words, not us? They take care of each other...they don't care who you are, because it's you...it doesn't matter what you did, they'll forgive you...accept you back...um..."

"Go on, Faye-Faye."

"Well...family is how you know who you are. Having a mother and a father...it's like you know where you come from. Somewhere where you belong. Ah shit, I don't know. And neither do you." She bit her lip.

"Edward knows what a family feels like. Edward has one on the Bebop. You were once part of it too, Faye-Faye."

"Gimme a break. Spike and Jet aren't family."

"Family's family," the child hacker said simply.

"Two bachelors and a dog?"

"But Jet-person is like someone in a family. He cooks for us and cleans up after us and lets us live with him and is always there for Spike-Spike. For you, too."

Is this kid for real? "That's not family! That's just Jet!" Faye crossed her arms behind her head. "He's one of those unfortunate individuals that feel like they have to look after everybody...and help them get back on their feet. Like with Spike."

Edward smiled. "Pleeease come back, Faye-Faye?"

"No. I'm my own woman. I started out by myself and I'm ending by myself. Now get off my computer and give me my ship back."

"But Faye-Faye has no money," Edward said slyly.

"Spike and Jet have no money. They're wannabe desperate cowboys looking for an easy buck."

"Like you, Faye-Faye?"

"WHAT!? I'm not a wannabe! I have more talent in my nail then those two put together!"

"But Faye-Faye has no money," the hacker repeated in a sing-song voice.

"I can get some," Faye snapped, "Just you watch me." She gripped the controls.

"Redtail won't obey your commands," Ed said patiently. She watched Faye. "Redtail also cannot send out any help signals to passing ships."

Faye glared at her.

"Pleeease, Faye-Faye?"

"No."

"Pleeease?"

"No!"

Edward changed tack. "Don't you like money?"

Faye felt her nose tingle at sudden smell of hard cash. "What?"

"We brought in a big bounty recently, Faye-Faye. He was a doctor who was a leader in the synthetic organ black market. He was very famous..."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Biiiig woolongs. Mega-woolongs."

"How mega?"

"Sixty million."

"Sixty mil..." Faye went dreamy. "You know, Ed, I think left some of my clothes back on the Bebop."

* * *

A/N: Actually, I accidentally deleted the part onwards from when Faye met the stranger at the racetrack till the end of the chapter after working for three solid hours on it. I was like AARRRRGH NO STUPID COMPUTER. At 2 in the morning. So I rewrote what I remembered of it the next day but sadly it's not as good as the original work I was writing before it was deleted. I tried to reconstruct as best I could but what can ya do? Please R&R.


End file.
